New story. I was basing the woman in this story off of Goddess Severa (
http://www.goddesssevera.com/main.htm ), if that helps anyone imagine it better.
I shuffled in my seat as she scanned me up and down from the other side of the desk, a friendly smile on her face.
"You look nervous," she said. "Don't be. You've basically got the job, if you want it."
"Really?"
"Yeah, why not," she shrugged, and when she did her boobs pressed together in a way that caught my eye.
She had a great body and made no attempt to conceal it. Her flower-print blouse was tight and low-cut, showing ample cleavage. Before we'd sat down, I'd noticed her skirt seemed on the shorter side, but part of that was her long legs.
Before the interview, I'd only seen her in pictures. She looked like a typical hot blond, with a tight body. But what her picture had failed to convey was her size. At 6,5', she towered over me. Her blouse was sleeveless and her arms, which seemed lean in proportion to her size, were still noticeably bigger than mine. Under her stockings, which went up past my waist, there was definitely some muscle tone. My hand had disappeared in hers when we'd shaken hands at the door. She was a babe, but she was a gigantic babe, an amazon.
"I should've gotten an assistant months ago," she went on. "Having someone to just take messages and do the typing should be a big timesaver."
"Well, I can do that, no problem." I said.
"And besides that, it gets lonely working from home. Sometimes you just need an outlet."
"An outlet?"
She stood up abruptly.
"There's one more part of the job you'd need to know about. Follow me."
I followed her down some stairs into her basement. She opened the door and a cool rush of air from some fans hit me.
"I had it converted into a gym last year," she said, flipping on the lights.
There was a treadmill and a bike in one corner, a punching bag in another, and a set of weights in another. She had her bench press set up with what looked like over 200 pounds. It was intimidating.
"I love having a home gym," she said starting to undo her belt. "It makes the stress of my job just drip away." Her belt was off now, and she slipped her skirt off, revealing tight, black underwear. I was too shocked to say anything.
"I'll admit, I have some control issues," she continued, unbuttoning her blouse, "and I think the running and the lifting really helps to ease that, but it's not enough on it's own. I need a new challenge. I need something else to master."
She dropped the blouse on the floor. Her boobs caught my attention first. Packed into a black sports bra. I was confused, and a little scared (this woman could probably kill me with her bare hands if she wanted to), but also excited. I felt my dick firm up and press against the inside of my pants.
"Something to master?" I finally asked
"Yes," she smiled again. "And I was thinking that something could be you. I have a stressful job. I don't get out much. A girl has needs, you know."
She turned to face me, running her hand up and down my shoulder.
"What kind of needs?" I asked.
"All kinds," she said, putting her other hand on my other shoulder and effortlessly throwing me to the ground.
"The need to fight," she continued.
I got to my feet and backed away. She advanced on my calmly.
"The need to hunt."
She backed me into a wall, took both my hands in hers and pinned them.
"The need to dominate," she whispered.
If I were taller, we'd be face to face, but at 5,8' we were chest-to-face and her breasts grazed my nose.
She moved both my hands on top of each other and kept them pinned against the wall with one hand. I struggled, but I couldn't budge. With her free hand she reached into my pants and put her hand around my hard cock.
"The need to fuck," she breathed. Her breasts pressed into my face now, smothering me.
"Wait," I protested.
She tightened her grip on my hands and my crotch. I panicked. I pressed my feet into her stomach and pushed off with all my might. She stumbled back a bit.
"That's it," she said excited. "You're getting it. Now come on!"
I didn't want to overthink it. I charged at her with everything I had and when I hit her, it was almost like running into a wall. She gave very little, even as I continued to push forward with all my lower body strength.
"I'll give you five more seconds, before I counter," she said, sounding almost bored.
What could I do in five seconds. I grabbed one of her massive legs with both of my hands, barely able to get around it, and tried to pull her into a takedown, but it didn't budge. I fell to my knees trying to push and pull her off leg out from under her, realizing how pointless it was, not realizing what a terrible position I was in.
"Time's up" she said.
On my knees I was in the perfect spot for her to wrap her legs around my head. Her thighs hugged the sides of my head with the weight of two metal beams, but the soft touch of her silk pantyhose felt cool against my neck. As her legs pulled me to the floor, I thought they might literally crush me.
"Please," I shouted. She let go in an instant.
"All you have to do is beg," she said.
She got up and straddled me, her massive arms on either side of my head, looking down at me, her hair falling into my face.
"Listen," she said, "don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. Much. But like I was saying upstairs, I need an outlet. If you were to take this job, this is most of what you'd be doing. You'd be a fighting partner when I want it. A play thing when I want it. A fuck buddy when I want it. Does that sound like something you could see yourself doing?"
"And people say working under a woman is easy," I answered.
She laughed, and shifted into sitting on my waist, her weight locking me into place.
"Lift up your arms," she commanded.
I did as I was told and she pulled my shirt off in one swift motion. She rubbed her hands up and down my bare chest, clearly revving herself up for playtime.
"I'd pay you more than any other assistant's job is offering. I can promise you that."
"But I wouldn't be your assistant," I answered. "If I took this job, I'd be your whore."
She leaned forward, pinning my arms to the floor, looking me in the eyes.
"You already are." She slid up on me, until her vagina pressed against my face. "Now act like it."
I managed to slide out from under her. Seizing the opportunity I jumped on her back and pulled her into the tightest sleeper hold I could. She stood up, and casually walked around the room.
"We'd have to work on your following directions," she said, her speaking in no way impaired by my attempt at a chokehold.
"Usually when subordinates won't cooperate, it's because they lack proper motivation." She reached back and pulled me over her head, stopping short of slamming me onto the ground by pulling me into a reverse bear hug, holding me, legs dangling above the ground for a few seconds. I was as helpless as a baby. Then she took us both to the ground, wrapping herself around me and rolling playfully. I was a turtle on its shell.
"Sometimes the right way to motivate is to punish," she said constricting her arms and legs further. "On the other hand, sometimes you have to reward," she said, reaching into my pants and putting her hand around my cock again. "I'm a big believer in both."
I moaned uncontrollably in both pain and pleasure, wondering whether I'd pass out or cum first. Then, at the last second, she let go and I was kept from doing either. I rolled over and panted, face down on the floor.
"Yeah, take a breather," she said, patting me on the back.
I gasped and wheezed for a few seconds, as the room stopped spinning around me. I'd never been as scared of anyone as I was of this woman right now. I'd also never wanted anyone as much as I wanted this woman right now.
"Alright, that's enough," she said scooping me before I'd really had time to recover,
and carrying me over to the free weights, where she laid me down on the bench press and sat on top of me. Grabbing the barbell off the bench with one hand, she threw it to the ground beside us.
"I get enough complications with my work," she said, leaning down, licking and kissing my face like she owned it. "I don't need complications with my men," she explained in between kisses. "I don't want a physical or intellectual equal. I want a guy who worships me." She stopped kissing and pulled me into her chest. I was plunged into firm, pillow-sized hills of creamy skin. "Because I'm better than him and he knows it. Because he needs me and I don't need him. I want a man who I can make scream and beg and cry, just as easily as I can make him moan and cum."
Running out of air, I tapped on her side, hoping she would let me go.
"What did I just say," she yelled.
I screamed into her chest, hoping it would appease her, and it did. She loosened ger grip and gently lowered me back into a lying position on the bench.
"The hours would be long," she said, continuing with her speech about the job. "You'd be on call 24/7. And you'd have to travel with me. It wouldn't be glamorous," she reached down and lifted my hands up onto her breasts, "but it would have its benefits. What do you think?"
I paused for a minute, under her weight, enjoying my hands on her chest, feeling her nipples get harder as I touched them and her heart beat through her chest.
"When do I start," I asked.
"Now," she said, pulling the barbell up from the ground with one hand and dropping it on my chest. I barely had time to get my hands off of her and under the bar. It was much heavier than what I normally lifted with. I had to struggle to keep it up. "You lift with this," I asked in a grunt.
"50 reps a day. I want to watch you struggle with it."
"I think I lack the motivation," I answered.
She pulled down my pants and stroked my cock once.
"As long as you can keep it up, I'll keep stroking."
She was really good at this punishment and reward thing.
